Be Chrool to your Scuel
by VixenBlueEyes
Summary: The CSI: team in high school! Yes, I know it's a worn out idea, but this one's pretty good. Contains some ff and mm but not explicitly so. Rated for language and content.


This is what happens when you stick a CSI: freak in school for 5 ½ hours for four days straight after three months of freedom. She starts to go a little haywire. I got reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally bored and I came up with this idea; tried to figure out how the CSI's would be in my high school. I know, I know, it's a fairly common practice, but oh, well. You can deal with it. Please review and tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: The high school is mine, I made it up. CSI: and all its affiliates belong to Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, CBS productions. Any songs and or mentions of works of literature will be credited to the proper author. I make no profit from this work of fiction. So, please, don't sue me, you won't get anything.

A/N#1: The reason for the rating is the language. I am being realistic here. High-schoolers DO NOT say: "Oh, gee whiz, I seem to have broken my darn nail on this here locker." OR "Johnny Everyboy, you rascal! You get back here this gosh darn minute!" They don't talk like that, so I'm not going to write like that. If this isn't your cup of tea, press that little button in the far left-hand corner that says "Back".

A/N#2: This has mentions of several homosexual relationships of both genders. No likee, _Pó mo thóin_. (It's Gaelic, go look it up)

A/N#3: Grissom and Catherine are seniors, Nick, Warrick, and Sara are juniors, and Greg is a freshman. Brass is vice-principal and Ecklie's a senior who's an ass. Each character will have their own starter chapter and I'll gradually move into different POVs as the story goes on. (That is, if you guys like it.)

Tuesday, 8am, November, 18. Another day of school at John Grover High School. 914 students swarmed through the halls in an attempt to find their locker, get their stuff in, and get to class on time. The noise was a cacophony of nearly 1,000 students all talking at once. That included with the teachers talking outside the classroom and the chaotic slam of lockers, it was a wonder anyone could hear each other. First bell hadn't rung yet, so most students were milling around, waiting for class to start. A pair of vivid blue eyes watched the huddled masses as they twisted and swayed like some sort of gigantic beast roiling in the sea. 17-year-old Catherine Willows leaned against her locker, clutching her notebook and Physics book to her chest. To her right, her friend Jamie was chattering on about how some boy had flirted with her on the bus earlier; Catherine was barely paying attention. She'd been tuning out Jamie's high-pitched, nasal babble since freshman year.

Right now, she was concentrating on two things. The first thing was trying to figure out if the place where her mother had drunkenly slapped her was bright red like she feared it would be. After a long night on the Strip, Amanda Willows had come staggering home, loudly belting out some disco song as she clung to the steps, a bottle of Jack Daniels in her hand. Like always, Catherine had crept down the stairs, firmly pulling her mother into the house. But this time, her mother had resisted, twisting out of her daughter's grip and giving her a sharp smack across the face. Catherine had tried to ignore it, but once her mother was in the bed, she quickly retreated to her room and curled up under her bed, wishing she had a simple, normal family.

The second thing wasn't quite so life changing. Catherine was on the lookout for a tall, skinny brunette she had in her calculus class. All she knew was that her name was Sara and she got all A's in a class that boasted 3 quarters of the class failing as an academic achievement. Jamie kept talking away as Catherine would occasionally nod her head to let Jamie know she was listening. But she kept her eyes glued to the hall, waiting to see the dark head bob through the crowd. For the past couple weeks, she'd seen Sara slip through the halls at breakneck speed, head down so low you'd think she was searching for a lost penny. The only time she spoke was in class, and that was with a small, soft-spoken voice that was barely audible. All the other kids picked on her for her shabby clothes and shy demeanor. Catherine felt for her, she knew what it was like to be an outsider.

"Hey, Cath!"

Catherine cringed at the sound of that voice. Conrad Ecklie, a fellow senior that she wished would take a long walk off a short cliff. Ecklie was a bully, a jerk and was loaded. And he never let anyone forget it. Catherine tried to ignore him as he pushed roughly through a group of 9th graders, sending them scattered all across the hall. She kept her eyes on the hall, waiting for Sara to come racing through. Just barely, she could make out the dark head weaving through the throng on her way to first class.

"Catherine!" Ecklie's voice sounded closer now, but she refused to turn her head and acknowledge him. Sara was getting closer and closer, Catherine knew she only had maybe a minute before Sara was out of her reach for another day. She could see Sara's lanky frame as she walked carefully around people, her head down like always. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, it gleamed like polished mahogany under the harsh, fluorescent lighting. As always, people ignored her as they passed through. Sara stared at the ground, Literature book held tightly against her. When she was just a few feet away, Catherine started to reach out and she'd just barely caught her shoulder when a muscular arm blocked her path. Sara just barely glanced back to catch her eye before she was gone.

"Dammit, Ecklie!" She swore, turning around.

Ecklie just grinned slightly and raised his eyebrows. Ignoring her annoyance, his grin got just a little bit wider and he glanced secretively down at Catherine. Rolling her eyes, Catherine waited for the inevitable. "So, uh, Cath. Varsity game Friday. Playing right here at good old Grover High. You going with anybody?"

"No." Catherine said flatly. She'd known this was coming; she'd known since last week. It'd been all over school that Conrad Ecklie was going to ask Catherine Willows to the game. The very thought of it sent a disgusted shiver down her spine. Catherine decided to just nip it in the bud. "Ecklie, I'm not going to the game period, I have other plans."

She had never seen someone's expression change so fast. Ecklie's face went from smugly confident to devastatingly confused in five seconds flat. He wasn't used to girls rejecting him like that. Everyone he asked went out with him, no matter what. Catherine bit her tongue to keep from giggling. Ecklie's face was a plethora of emotions as he wandered away, pondering this new event. A locker slammed to her right and she jumped; turning, she found the source of the noise. A mop of black curls was peeking just above the door of the locker. Catherine grinned. "Hey, Gil," She said to the locker door. "Guess what I did?"

"Hm?"

Catherine took that as a questioning 'hm' and went on. "Turned Ecklie down just now."

The black curls moved slightly, and from behind the door, two deep, ocean blue eyes peeked around. A single eyebrow rose and Gil's enigmatic grin crept onto his face. "Oh, really?" It wasn't difficult to figure out that Gil hated Ecklie with a vengeance. But only Catherine knew the particulars towards why Gil hated Ecklie so much besides the obvious. Ecklie had no idea how to treat a girl, as Gil had accidentally found out. On his way to class, he'd cut through the area of trailers, only to find Ecklie behind one of them, arguing loudly with Bonnie Addams, a senior. Both were speaking heatedly when Ecklie had suddenly slapped Bonnie right across the face and called her one of most foul insults. Needless to say, Gil had had a deep hatred for Ecklie ever since that day.

Gil slammed his locker shut, holding his physics notebook loosely in his hand. With a sigh, Gil rubbed his eyes and leaned against his locker. Catherine smiled sympathetically, "Rough night?" Nodding, Gil blinked, a couple times, trying to wake up.

"Stayed up past three trying to study for my English exam. We're doing Julius Caesar and we have a review today."

Catherine groaned. "I should be so lucky; I've got a physics test in…" she checked her watch, "five minutes." She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to get her brain to work. She hadn't gotten to sleep until almost five, and then had to wake up at six. It wasn't a new thing, running on an hour of sleep, but on this day, it seemed to be affecting her a little bit more.

"Catherine Willows, I'm talking to you!"

Catherine jumped, opening her eyes. "What?"

Two green eyes twinkled mischievously and Warrick Brown stepped back, grinning. To most people, Warrick Brown was a short little geek with thick glasses and big feet. No one could seem to get past his shabby clothes and shy demeanor to find a brilliant, genuinely caring person underneath. Catherine had accidentally bumped into him once or twice and enjoyed his company. It was highly unusual for a junior to be talking to a senior, but Catherine was willing to make an exception for Warrick.

_I know it's short and probably sucks, but if you could review anyway, that would be great! You have to know, when I see that address on my e-mail I do a funny dance, which then inspires me. So please review. _


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